"Where are your legs that used to run; When first you went to carry a gun? I fear your dancing days are done, Johnny, I hardly knew you. Irish Folk Song." Foreword

"I had already seen pen drawings in the newspapers of soldiers with bandaged eyes standing in aid stations, of soldiers lying on hospital beds in France. These were the men my father was now going to help. But even though I knew how much he was needed, I clung to him beside the train the day he left and begged him not to go. I was much younger then." Chapter 1, Page 2

"I don't know what my mother played. The notes had no distinct tone but melted together and poured over Father and me as we sat in the evening light. I leaned my head against his shoulder and he held my hand. The silver pitcher of...